


No One More Beautiful Than You

by ETNMystic



Category: Escape the Night (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Self-Harm, Suicidal Ideation, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-06 08:42:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21223772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ETNMystic/pseuds/ETNMystic
Summary: Mystic can't bear the stress of her life and the anxiety of what's to come. She's made preparations to end it all, and is about to, when along comes an ethereal demigoddess.(CW: Self-harm, suicidal ideation, suicide attempt)





	No One More Beautiful Than You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ETNMystic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ETNMystic/gifts), [Lucy112235](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucy112235/gifts).

The May sunset of the countryside was like something out of a painting. The wind a mild warm breeze. And one young woman observing it all for what she thought would be her final time.

Mystic couldn't help but feel a sort of despondency for what she'd be leaving, her friends, her family, her ambitions, her passions, her; all of them gone the instant she would fall from the railing she looked out on. But she'd always be reminded by the cuts, scars, scratches, and bite marks on her arms of the internal struggle she felt day in and day out. Her depression, anxiety, stress, self-loathing: they all had gotten the best of her this time. She admitted defeat once and for all. It was all too much for her, and she felt that she had to leave it all behind.

"I'm sorry," she whispered into the breeze: perhaps one of those she was leaving behind could hear her. Maybe Penelope, or Alice, or Marianne, or Ivy, or Matpat, or Ro, or Safiya, or Cinna, or Andrea R, or Theia: hell, maybe even Candy Pop. Perhaps they would understand why. Surely they'd be able to get past the initial blow. She knew they were strong: they were stronger than she could ever become, both on their own and combined together. Besides she knew they had no need for her anyway.

The despairing author climbed atop the railing and stared at the sunset for one last time, a few small tears falling down her cheeks, lightly brushed with a pink-red rose.

"Goodbye."

She slowly held her foot out when......

"Mystic?"

A soft and gentle hand took ahold of hers.

"Theia, please, go back inside," Mystic sighed.

"Mystic, love, please. We need to talk."

The young lady sighed and stepped down: she supposed a final talk couldn't hurt. Theia kept ahold of Mystic's hand as she helped her down. She'd always admired how soft, smooth, and beautiful her hands were, it was as though Aphrodite had given those even more time and attention, but was that possible for a girl she found to already be so ethereal: to be even more lovely and beautiful? Leading her to their hammock, Theia gently sat her down and took ahold of both hands. As she sat, Mystic got the feeling that this wasn't going to be a normal conversation.

"Mystic, I've noticed recently that you've been acting rather unusual," Theia began kindly.

"I know, it's just an excuse for me being lazy," Mystic sighed, believing she knew what she was going to say. But to her surprise, this was far from the case.

"It is no excuse from you. It is as real as the hammock we are on. You're hurting, I can tell."

Theia felt she didn't need to mention the scars and whatnot riddling Mystic's arms. 

"I wish to know what's troubling you, louloúdi. You must not keep the burden to yourself any longer. It's detrimental."

Mystic looked into her beautiful olive-green eyes. There was pure sincerity and compassion radiating from them, she could tell that for sure. It was only one look, a single solitary look for a single solitary second, but it was enough for Mystic to have her emotions spill over after keeping them under wraps for so long. Tears piled in her eyes, and she told Theia everything: the self-harm, the self-hatred, the suicidal thoughts, the anxiety, the stress, the emptiness inside of her. Theia listened intently, taking in every word her flower was telling her. 

Once Mystic had told her tale, Theia had tears building in _her _eyes. She wasn't surprised that Mystic was feeling like this, but she was surprised that it had gotten this far, and it was soul-destroying to imagine, let alone see.

"Oh, my dearest louloúdi," she sighed heartbroken.  
"It's no wonder you've been acting so differently. I can only imagine how overwhelming the pain is. I wish you didn't feel this way. I wish you would be able to feel the happiness and love you deserve."

She beckoned for Mystic to come closer, and the two embraced one another as Theia rubbed her back gently.

"This dark cloud is keeping you from seeing and feeling that. I know I am no professional, but I desire to help you keep it at bay to the best of my ability."

"Truly?" Mystic sniffled. 

"Truly."

"Why someone as ugly as me?"

"Louloúdi, it is not you who is ugly, but this dark cloud. _You_ are as beautiful as the primroses in full bloom. I see it from within as well as outside of you. There is no one more beautiful than you. Your heart alone proves that."

"My.....heart?"

"Yes. You don't show it to yourself, but you show kindness to so many others. You have a heart of gold, and so much compassion for those around you. You make life so much more beautiful and you light up every room you are in. I promise I will help you through this, louloúdi, however I can, for I love you more than words can say, and you deserve to live."

Slowly pulling away from the embrace, Mystic smiled sadly as Theia gave her a gentle kiss on her cheek. 

"Thank you, my love," Mystic sniffled crying tears of relief. Letting out all of the stress was a catharsis for her, especially considering how long she had kept these feelings to herself.

"Anything for you, my sweet louloúdi. Would you like to sleep in my bed tonight? I feel it would be safer that way."

Mystic was uncertain at first, but Theia's tone wasn't a scolding one. It was one of compassion and worry. She knew that Theia wanted her to be safe. 

"Of course. But first, can we.......lie in the hammock for a bit please?" 

Mystic felt her cheeks blush, and Theia giggled endearingly. 

"Of course."

The two got settled in and close to one another. Mystic had her head near Theia's heart as she rubbed Mystic's back. She could hear Theia's heart beating, a sign for Mystic that there was hope after all. The hammock gently swung back and forth, soothing her into a state of relaxation and rest, as Theia's lovely voice serenaded her a soft lullaby.

_Xaplóste tóra, to louloúdi mou. _   
_I agápi mou tha sas voithísei na therapéfsete. _   
_Gia ména eíste tóso agapitoí _   
_kai aisthánomai san na eímai spíti. _

_Xaplóste tóra, to louloúdi mou _   
_Ópos aisthánesai o kardiakós palmós mou. _   
_Ótan xypnás, tha eímai edó _   
_kai den tha perpatísete mónoi sas._

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write a Hurt/Comfort Thystic (Theia/Mystic) fic involving suicidal ideation, depression, anxiety, and whatnot. Things I've suffered with and still go through today. 
> 
> I also loved Lucy's idea of a lullaby at the end. Here's the rough translation:
> 
> Lie down now, my flower.  
My love will help you heal.  
For me you are so dear  
and I feel like I'm home.
> 
> Lie down now, my flower  
As you feel my heartbeat.  
When you wake up, I'll be here  
and you will not walk on your own.


End file.
